Commencement 2011

The Thacher School's 122^nd Commencement held strong with tradition as a celebration made of both the all-together-now and the individual: the stately procession in pairs or trios of the juniors, then the seniors, then faculty down the Shagam Steps, across the track and under the Big Top—helped along by the tweedle and blare of bagpipes. Then, after an invocation and This Place (a song written by Greg Haggard for his daughter’s class over a decade ago, sung by a chorus that included alumni and alumnae), each student on the dais with the Head of School and Dean of Students while a Senior Tribute is read. A farewell by the School Chair, a benediction, America, the Beautiful—and, Tah-Daaaah!!—they’re all officially graduates, with CdeP (Casa de Piedra) 2011 stamped forever after their names.

Graham is, as one of his advisors once said, “a people person through and through.” How and why? Because he seems to contain a piece of every possible character and personality. His range is as wide as each part is convincing, as Graham channels Christopher Walken, William Wallace, and Mr. Huyler--and we haven’t begun on his multiple stage roles through the years, many involving accents that, with a single word, can put us in stitches. Quick intelligence and ready humor generate both the one-liner and the longer story, the connections made by gesture and word like lines of filament to which Graham has attached the most gentle, but powerful of hooks. When Graham speaks, we are all his--peers, younger students, teachers, faculty children, whose laughter rings across the basketball court when he scoops the water boy up and flips him over a broad shoulder. Fun turns to serious, though, when Graham takes to gridiron or lacrosse field. There, he acts the inspirational leader he is, willingly putting himself in harm’s way in practice and in competition to advance the Toadly cause. He’ll holler himself hoarse encouraging others to their best game. Graham knows, too, how to use that voice in his academic life, to which he brings, with increasing self-understanding, not only esoterica (say, a little-known fact about WWII that links to a larger concept) but also a genuine appetite for intellectual discourse. Few relish conversation, wherever, whenever, in all its permutations--debate, discussion, counsel, argument--more than this lad. Graham, from having watched you, with respect and wonder, making the very most of your Thacher experience these four years, we have a one-word answer to the question, “Would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and do it again?” Aye!

A peer’s two words for AhKeyah--“absolutely brilliant”--beg for specifics. Here are some on the long list of what AhKeyah has a special touch for: getting between the lines of A Portrait of the Artist or Beloved and bringing that understanding to the discussion for group work, putting together playlists for dances, creating silly diversions on a long stretch of kayak paddling while still moving purposefully forward on the sea, recalling complicated dance step combinations, energetically pursuing a third language, bringing to every table she sits at, in a classroom or out of it, what one teacher called “a moral clarity beyond her years” in her writing and her astute offerings to the discussion. Complexities of all kinds--in human relationships, in disparate communities, in an academic discipline she is determined to mine for the gold she knows is there--do not frighten or dissuade AhKeyah. When her interest or concern is piqued, she grapples honestly and directly with the issue, using strong arms, a powerful mind, a deeply engaged heart. Her considerable influence in this school is a result of both the model she presents and the daily actions that sculpt that stunning exemplar: keeping an eye out for the classmate or younger student in distress or real crisis, including others always, knowing exactly what to say and, wisely, when to let a hug communicate her care, collapsing into silliness whenever you need a good laugh, dependably standing straight and tall for principle.. That’s posture. We end, rather, with a gesture, specifically, AhKeyah’s smile: warm, inviting, ready for fun and action--a dazzling reflection of a unique spirit we will miss, but one that will, we are confident, go out into the world to light all the corners that need it.

A few weeks ago, David shared the genesis-question of his Senior Exhibition topic: Why are people more drawn to the demons than to the angels? Beyond a decided twinkle in the eye and an occasionally devilish smile-- there is little of the former in David, and a whole lot of the latter. A peer called him “one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I have ever met, someone who typically puts others before himself.” This occurs in many venues: action on behalf of children--never invisible to David--in the local Smart Start and some in genocide-torn Uganda and Congo who will never know their long-distance benefactor. Here on campus, David’s reliable compassion is the wide river on which his many genuine friendships move and in which he swims with confidence and ease. Equally dependable is David’s work ethic, which has delivered to him increasingly sharper skills and deeper understanding in his academic life, his natural analytical acumen, insight, and blossoming creativity combining with a seriousness of purpose many might envy. With David, though, it always comes back to a particular kind of generosity: spending extra time with a prospective student on a campus tour, lending a hand to a greenhorn out at the stables in the furnace heat of early September, orienting novitiates in the A Better Chance program to the boarding school experience by the example of his own development in Thacher’s embrace. Balancing great empathy with clear vision, David has emerged as a leader in the conversation about diversity and inclusion. These--and David’s recent happy stint as a singer and dancer on stage--are gifts freely given by someone whose wings have unfolded in beautiful ways here. Now, they wait to lift him to yet another sky in which to loop and dip and rise again. Good angel in bright red pants.

Half-hour ‘til first period. Major math test looms. Mackenzie isn’t studying; not sharpening pencils or cramming in one final formula. She’s sitting at a look-out with two buddies, breathing in delight, watching morning sunshine fill the Valley. Uniquely equipped to race down the hill she’s hiked up, she’s in her chair on time. Yet Mackenzie doesn’t consider this, or her significant academic and athletic achievements, the stamp of her success. She channels Emerson: “I know that during my time at Thacher, I have succeeded towards--rather than having met--a truer self.” The intellectual sojourner, she is an ace at listening and reading carefully, writing fluently, appreciating multiple perspectives, applying precise, finely tuned work habits. One teacher called her “a demon in the classroom: focused, sharp, committed.” The same descriptors--plus “clear-headed, utterly confident and poised”--apply to Mackenzie on court or field, where she makes driving to cage or basket, or levitating for a fake set (which sends the opposition dig-sprawling) look as easy as falling off a log in the Sespe or boarding a plane bound for Hanoi. Cool in the clutch--but also endlessly warm-hearted and caring, tending to the daily details of relationship and community that create the kind of whole cloth that--as a friend of any age, here or abroad--you experience as enduring comfort wrapped tightly around you, good days, bad days. One peer wrote, “Mackenzie’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known.” Another: “She is endlessly perceptive, keenly aware when anyone’s ill at ease. She’ll do everything possible make everyone feel comfortable.” Still another named this Mackenzie’s “quiet brilliance,” adding, “beyond a good friend, she is a strong leader, and far too humble about how amazing she is.” Modest and amazing, loyal and loving, Mackenzie’s truer self is one we feel blessed to have had in this place these four years.

“I am so ready to be restored!” Sara’s inimitable opening salvo in yoga class can stand for three elemental aspects of this original spirit: first, the richness of her chosen activities that draw from the well of her curiosity, energy, and incisive intellect. Second, her commitment to balance-- a reflection of her mature understanding that scheduled rejuvenation is a key part of both immediate and long-term happiness. Third, her focused enthusiasm. To what she loves, Sara devotes intensity and time: to personal writing and crafting op-ed pieces, to reading voluminously in all genres of both English and French literature in order to understand Vonnegut, de Beauvoir, Collette or Madame Bovary at a molecular level, to whipping up truffles or savoring tajine, delving into her beloved San Francisco’s past, or analyzing the most recent Giants’ game and Rookie-of-the-Year nominees. And we all benefit: reinstatement of the smoothies blenders, The Notes as a timely, topical periodical neatly delivered to mailboxes, Banned Books brought into the light, the example of a long-distance running as restorative meditative art. In classes from Thacher to Rennes, as well as in the blogosphere, Sara is fuel to the warm, sometimes hot discussion fire, her observations insightful and incisive, encouraging others to express their own opinions even as she shrewdly hones her own. “Hers,” wrote one teacher, “is a literary eclecticism.” The young woman who once suggested renaming work crew at the barns “Candy Crew” to make it more palatable has become master of Inverted Tree Pose. What’s next for Sara? This whip-smart and funny provocateur could bump Anderson Cooper in keeping them honest by going bilingual. We expect she’ll travel more continents, digging for greater truths, scrutinizing what she finds wherever she goes. We wish her On lui souhaite--et Bon vent!

We’d wager it won’t be easy for this stand-tall guy to stand still for praise. Will would rather be off in the Los Padres hills, that hallmark stride covering ground so fast the rabbits get whiplash trying to catch a gander at those State Championship gams. He’d just as soon be tossing a lacrosse ball around LP, prelude to quiet conversation with a younger kid needing wise direction. Or stealing a soccer ball from an opponent, effortlessly dribbling it out of danger, bandit-style. Or scooping a ground ball for yet another drive goalward. Or exercising his “unusually powerful intellect that sees to the core of any text with ease and genuine interest”--any text, any shelf: literature (English, Spanish), science, mathematics, history. He’d rather be writing a winning short story, practicing for a coffeehouse act, surprising friends with a side-splitter joke, learning his lines for the next play or SNL--or mastering that maniacally cool stance. Will makes the difficult look simple to those watching--or being carried by Clark Kent turned Superman to get an injured camper to help. Yet he understands the relationship between hard work and accomplishment, and quietly, purposefully he goes about earning his achievements, without expectation of a prize beyond the pleasure he takes in the stretch, muscles stronger with each exertion. A teacher recently said of Will, “He’s really here to learn--an embodiment of the growth mindset. Every day, so present.” That presence is felt in each spot Will’s filled with his goodness, his intelligence, his dedication, his inspirational leadership, his integrity and generosity of spirit. This, and true humility, endear him to his peers and teachers. Will is, one faculty member asserted, “all that we strive for at Thacher,” which leaves us four inevitable words to set him loose from the dais, words he has enacted for four years: Honor, Fairness, Kindness, Truth.

Nothing escapes Peyton’s eye. Her vision is telescopic, panoramic, wide-angled, macro-lensed--and, with her open heart and attuned ear, it allows her entry to worlds inaccessible to most. Unless, of course, she shares with those lucky ones a poem or story. These are gateways built, as poet Gary Snyder put it, with “words/ like rocks, placed solid by hands/ In choice of place,” invitations to understanding how Peyton makes sense of the universe and her unique spot among Cassiopeia, howling coyotes, “small things creeping, rustling through dry grass,” people. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, at ease equally with Morrison’s The Bluest Eye as with an article on biomimetics. The many facets of language delight Peyton--and then she’s on to drawing out nuanced meaning, patient prospector whose “Eureka!” is often a beatific smile. A teacher wrote, “In the world of ideas, Peyton is at home, making connections, uncovering the intricacies of relationship.” True, too, in the natural world Peyton embraces, many topics garnering her engagement, the more complicated, the more exciting. In studying Chinese, Peyton is motivated not only by an aim of fluency, but also by passion for the details of culture, the impact of history, the experience of the people. Peyton wears her love of learning unabashedly, bringing others into her positive intellectual influence. She’s a gentle, willing sharer: names of constellations, a different electronic instrumentation for a more powerful effect, a take on climate change rooted in unassailable statistics, a paperclip bird, a blindingly original graphic design emerging from a pen-and-ink doodle, skillful aligning of hame and harness, and confident, trustworthy hands on the reins to Pedro and Pancho. Immune to peer pressure, she meets you honestly and without judgment: “A port of reason and acceptance in the storm of adolescence,” a faculty member wrote. And yet, a dreamer. In Peyton, we cherish the sum as much as each lovely part.

Overheard, a young student speaking: “Erin Chisolm always makes a point of saying hello, even when she’s being, like, a busy senior.” There’s truth there, and not merely in that “like.” Affable and eager to include others, Erin is one of those day students you don’t know isn’t a boarder until you see her behind the wheel of a car leaving campus. Apparently inexhaustible, her energy rivals her commitment to this school as a living, breathing, intentional community. What Erin brings to its multifarious parts--to El Archivero to Camp Supply to volleyball court and lacrosse field in practice, scrimmage, and match, to the stage--is equal parts dynamism and can-do: people and objects step aside as she barrels down to get done what needs doing. In a history or literary discussion, Erin’s fearless about tossing in her opinions and interpretations; these are rooted in a sensitive, sophisticated appreciation of how issues and people intertwine, in oil spills and elsewhere. It’s rare to see Erin without a camera slung over her shoulder, and her photography reveals an abundant creativity and thoughtful expression of what her very good eye picks up in the environment. When she sees injustice or need, she’s the first to chop at the thorns: create an animated short on global overfishing, treat Monica Ros kiddlies to her company or special needs children to a Best Beach Day, or to expose evil’s roots--for example, rife political corruption in Sierra Leone as it nurtured the blood diamond trade, a topic that gained greater clarity and force in Erin’s thoughtfully articulated Senior Exhibition. At a chapel service last spring, Erin offered some lines from Thomas Merton that speak of “awakening. . . a purity of vision . . . [and] a glimpse of the cosmic dance.” With every move, many behind scenes played out publicly by others, Erin has choreographed her sure place in that piece.

Chris takes as a daily directive the final line of Sherman Day Thacher’s The Banquet Song: to do the best work in the world that we can. It starts before the sun lights the far east side of the cow arena, where Chris will be later; mornings, he is at another edge of campus, out at the stables, mucking Jerry’s stall, encouraging Blue Team riders to their own finest manure raking. From there, on to the best work of classroom and lab--where what teachers call “a deep level of engagement” combines with attentiveness and preparation to ensure comprehension of what’s between the covers of the book and what it’s connected to beyond, especially in science and math. More best work in after-school gridiron hours, where quarterback Chris’ natural savvy, earned confidence, calm leadership, and significant game experience inspire others to higher levels of play. Winter, spring and summer break, best work happens on mountain trails and gymkhana field, where schooling horses (or mules) begins with schooling himself, exercising patience, learning to ask for more with cues as subtle as the flick of a spur flank-wards. Weekends, there’s more: herding freshmen at check-in, hoisting brush cutters and training others in rugged handiwork on a Twin Peaks Trail project, getting everyone on the team out for Extreme Cowboy Racing, lifting Cora Mae into a another hug. Throughout it all, spring water clarity in what Chris stands for: honesty and integrity infuse his actions. If something goes wrong, it’s this vaquero you want around. Action provides our close: a lightning streak of brown, a lance, nine possible rings, “TRAAAAAAAAAAACK!!” white hat flying in the blast of forward motion, the rush through time measured in seconds to a perfect score. Blue’s your lucky color; nine’s your lucky number--except that luck’s got little to do with it. ‘Til the best we can do is all done.

Don’t ever tell Sienna she can’t do something. First, she has abundant smarts to unravel the tightest Gordian knot and nimble fingers to do her mind’s bidding. Second, she has prodigious improvisational talents; she’ll find a way around, if not through. Third, she’s as tenacious as a barnacle on an orca’s underside. Fourth, she’s unequivocally dedicated to expanding her boundaries--experiential, intellectual, creative, geographic, relational. And Sienna will apply an uncommon inner strength to accomplish whatever task she chooses. Optimistic? Sienna’s walking sunshine under a raven-dark mane. Says a friend, Sienna’s “outright positivity in any situation is something everyone could learn from. She is never without a smile, a welcoming word, a beautiful piece of original writing, or a cheering fact about whales. The good vibe of friendship and laughter she produces can be felt all the way from Casa to the gymkhana field”--another place where Sienna’s spirit is palpable, her work ethic strong and productive. And in between, a stop, for sure at the Milligan Performing Arts Center, where by force of personality and expertise, Sienna shines, even in classic black, as mistress of the backstage, her inimitably positive approach to what others see as duty transforming it into fun. And as a student, she evokes from her teachers words like smart, witty, engaging, engaged, meticulous, unafraid, intellectually curious. Humbly and without fanfare, Sienna does what’s right--and what’s good--out of a generous, informed, wide-open heart and an eye watchful for the needs and yearnings of others: Casa clan members who receive secret notes, hugs at check-in, and wise mentoring; Special Olympics athletes; stage-affrighted actors needing a cue, camping mates both peer and faculty, the horses that have flourished under her care. Sienna vivifies each of the School’s four tenets with maturity, intentionality, and lively grace, with beauty before, behind, above, and all around her.

You know the fabled better mousetrap that prompts the world to beat a path to your door? John Cowles could build it. And the door. And probably the house framing the door. Except that his powerful engineering mind and passion for finding solutions go much bigger than mere mousetraps. Before building is imagining; then mapping it out. Finally, bringing it into reality--creation. The “it”? A biodiesel golf cart or hydroplane that could, theoretically, cross the Pacific. For John, head and hands combine with fluidity, grace, and intentionality, inspiration in every “Aha!” moment revealing an essential interconnectivity--between analysis of literature or historical events and fuller comprehension of a political movement, between calculus and physics and the behavior of systems, machines and human beings. Concern for environmental sustainability gets much of John’s focus, as anyone watching him ferrying buckets of off-loaded vegetables and fruit from kitchen to compost pile can attest. Called by a friend, “an honest, hardworking, passionate person,” John leads by example, his sleeves perpetually rolled up, arms ready for action, his smile broad and accepting of whatever you bring to the effort. True, too, in his dedication to Indoor Committee, where, responsible and reliable, he reigns as the King of Logistics, ensuring that events are prepped thoroughly, cleaned up afterwards, and, in between, are morale-boosting fun. To lacrosse and football, John applies the natural athleticism and strength he honed as a downhill ski racer to defensive play and blocking. There, as everywhere, John is imperturbable but absolutely committed to doing his best. Tarp set-up in the rain? No problem. Practical, skilled, knowledgeable, determined to take what’s dysfunctional and improve it, make what’s good better, John’s aims are high--”to improve the earth’s future and its ecosystems, as well as the lives of its inhabitants.” And they’re well within reach, with John at the wheel.

From Rainier to the Los Padres, Ebony chose, four years ago, to extend her geographical limits, her family, her definition of “school.” How wide the embrace, how strong the spirit and body, how thoroughly beautiful the effort and the result, a golden ratio all its own! Ebony-as-student provides a formula for anyone smart enough to watch and take notes: no-nonsense preparation + honest intellectual curiosity + “aesthetic approach” + “terrific insight” = academic success and the respect of teachers and schoolmates. The model shifts when Ebony responds to needs beyond her own: human rights issues from Northern Uganda to Haiti prompting fundraisers, students from other schools struggling with issues of recognition or acceptance, children at Smart Start who snuggle into her lap for story-time, younger versions of Hill girls who see in Ebony “the cool older sister”--and the young woman they’d like to become. Candid and kind, sensitive and rebar-strong, affectionate and self-contained, Ebony is respected and valued for the totality of who she is, every paradox containing an essential truth and an alluring symmetry. The whole of Ebony also includes the athlete and the artist. Of the first, Ebony is even-keeled and appropriately intense on the basketball court, a paragon of team play; in the latter, Ebony has revealed the talent and versatility in her paintbox, prayer wheels and portraits. She stops gossip or unkindness in its tracks; she’ll walk more than a mile in someone else’s wrong-sized Tevas to help a friend. As a peer writes, Ebony “can be counted on to be level headed no matter what the situation.” Ebony knows what she’s about, from the inside out. She has completed her brave, honest “I am” with so many phrases during her CdeP stay--and we are confident that the possibilities for even more are nothing short of infinite.

The leap of faith that Valorie made in applying to Thacher, sight unseen, two thousand miles from home, makes sense. If you’ve seen her dance, you know: sweat equity has carved muscles that can do the bidding of the mind that knows the choreography precisely. That’s the leap. The faith? Valorie knew in her bones that her good mind, determination, and drive would be met here by peers and teachers who would both challenge her and offer a hand--as long as she was willing to do the hard work. “One of the most resilient students around,” wrote an admiring teacher of Valorie’s, affirming that by taking the initiative, she fully owns her learning, bio to Spanish to psych to English, the academic equivalents of adapting to a tricky seven-beat or nine, of taking off and landing solidly, but elegantly. “She has learned to write with as much grace and focus as she dances,” says a teacher who knows. And metaphoric dance turns real, in studio and on stage, which Valorie also owns completely. Versatile, dependable, she learns movement quickly, timing and sequences locked into memory with one or two run-throughs. Kinesthetic intelligence weaves with spatial and musical in a trifecta that culminates in every Bravissima! performance. Valorie’s remarkable Senior Exhibition informed variously: from poised, perfect delivery at the podium to engaging virtually every inch of the stage, where her self-choreographed piece left her audience in a hushed state of amazement--until it broke into wave after wave of applause. “Why I love Senior Exes!” said one teacher. Others weighed in with “delightful” and “revelatory.” And, simply, “one in a million.” With respect and affection, we send Valorie off to her future: likely an attorney who dances her way through closing arguments, knowing at her marrow that “It’s not where you start, but where you end that matters."

There’s a risk-taker in Chris--not foolhardy, but willing to tamp anxiety in favor of personal expansion. The study of Chinese beyond program requirements, the addition of Cultural Anthropology to an already full course load, an EDT promising long days of hiking and vertiginous mountain passes--these are seductive sirens to Chris, not the cannibal kind, but the sort that lure the sailor off his anticipated course--and then discuss a recent article in The Economist or film or a provocative BBC commentary with him. One teacher called Chris “the kind of student who doesn’t come along often. He’s willing to suck the marrow out of every historical bone we chew.” Another: “He’s an idea man who wears his intelligence gracefully, inside and outside classrooms.” History, politics, current events--Chris’ appreciation of and profound interest in these appreciate subtlety and nuance, his opinions formed by take-no-prisoners investigations, his questions incisive. “He is extremely passionate,” says a classmate, “ and unafraid to get past sometimes meaningless everyday talk to delve into issues of more importance and emotion.” Although in most venues, he absorbs others’ viewpoints while holding firmly to his own, you don’t want to draw the short straw in a debate with him. On the other hand, you’d be lucky if you were a parent on one of his forward talking, backwards walking campus tours , or deliberating with him on the JC, or in the audience as he parsed the Taliban in a tour de force Senior Ex, or rooming in his section, or in a Masquer’s production or coffeehouse act with him, or running a killer cross-country course with him loping by your side, ignoring pain. In these places, you are in the presence of a self-possessed, reliable, thoughtful human being, one who acts out Sir Winston Churchill’s statement: “We make a living by what we get--a life by what we give.”

In Thacher’s academic firmament, Ben’s our Sirius, apparent magnitude of -1.46--though he might gently correct us that it’s actually not a single star, but a binary star system. Ben is, in fact, very serious (his humor is wry and ironic) about several things: first, about using his prodigious intellect to get to the deepest possible understanding of subjects covering every academic discipline, shouldering what would be for most a course load made for Hercules but is for Ben, normal. Second, tangentially, he’s serious about satiating his boundless curiosity, no mere peeking around corners, but whole-brain Kowabunga!s into topics that tickle at the edges of his facile, endlessly working mind. Third, about using his musical talent to uplift, his saxophone wailing this Beastly element in standard jazz numbers and contemporary fare. Fourth, serious about graphic design. Staid and stodgy vaporize with a blast of Ben’s imagination, and are replaced by some possibility Ben realizes with a potent combination of technical acumen and creative flow. The result: a seismic shift in The Notes’ readability and readership starting with Ben’s joining the staff four years ago. Or a masterful portrait of Mr. Shagam, or his multi-media art series translating human emotion into a visual medium. Fifth, in random order, Ben is serious about the outdoors, a long-time, highly skilled enthusiast who can scale rock walls, camp in snow, and organize Camp Supply to within an inch of its life. In all of these is the sixth: providing a role model to the many, sophomore and otherwise, who watch his every ethical move: tender, funny love, no corruption. As Ben himself has understood all along, “Staying put provides nothing.” Although the subject was rock climbing, Ben was metaphorizing the life he’s led here: “Go for the leap.” And we’re not just talkin’ virtual.

The sophisticated cosmopolite in Francesca has lived in peaceful, even happy coexistence with the rural girl during her time with us. Partly it’s because Francesca has an unusually mature perspective about Life @ Thach: whatever isn’t quite her cup of chai is part of a whole school and community that she has invested in. Here, Francesca has found space for her imagination to roam, discovering in these environs places to tell her stories and people eager to listen and watch. Keenly observant, tuning fork receptive, Francesca is like Whitman’s child “[going] forth each day,” absorbing what she takes in with all her senses--and transposing it in highly original poetry, analytical and creative prose, film (à deux langues), photography, large murals and smaller artwork that blend exceptional technical rendering ability with a unique “painterliness”--a few effortless strokes capturing a face or figure brilliantly. As for her gifts to the seminar room or science lab, Francesca’s xray vision sees to the core of De Beauvoir as readily as Lahiri, her interpretations passionate and playful, intellectually energetic yet subtle--savoir and connetre both in her power. She is open to others’ responses--a quality that spills over with the readiness and luster of mercury to her relationships. Honest, forthright, and non-judgmental, Francesca offers sound counsel. What she has offered in dance performance all her years here is a portrait drawn by sustained, sometimes painful work at barre or on studio floor, her strong alignment and increasing extensions an exquisite mark of her dedication to this art of the many she commands. Emily Dickinson wrote, The Truth must dazzle gradually/ Or every man be blind. So with the revelation of Francesca, multifarious talents unwound in measured pace these four fully lived years. Sprung into the larger world, more will surely follow, ribbons in the breeze of her going forth.

The guitar-totin’, bluesy-voiced, first-to-the-front Holiday freestyle rapper gets raucous affirmation as she steps in front of the Assembly, singing, “Wednesday, Wednesday,” and rightly. But first things first: Mary Ellen-as-scholar. The call of intellectual pursuit pricks up Mary Ellen’s ears like few other sounds--and she’s off, accelerated courses across the board, best hug the wall as she goes by. Teachers commend her “exquisite preparation and deep intelligence” no less than her discipline, commitment, insight, and talent--the last sharpened especially for political analysis and international studies. Oh, and mathematics and English and Spanish. Did we mention chemistry, EnviSci and Bio? Researcher, prober, analyst, dissector--Mary Ellen has the tools and skills to take concepts apart--and reassemble them in a way that makes sense to her and gives her knowledge that lasts long after she turns out the lights and closes the door to the lab or classroom. Mary Ellen-as-competitor reveals many of the same qualities expressed physically--in a purposeful run down the lacrosse field or a well-controlled round at the canter in any English arena. For Mary Ellen-as-leader, look to her principled work as a member of the Judicial Council and on behalf of Amnesty International and STAND, or to the silly-and-sensitive mix in her Hilltop advising and in her leadership on Equestrian Team. “She’s the friend you run to when you’re ecstatic and when you’re heartbroken,” says a classmate--and when lawn sprinklers beckon. Mary Ellen-the-journeyer is also a Funke we prize as grand. This one believes in the value of quiet trail riding, singing to senior citizens or in coffeehouses, taking on a third language for fuller immersion in an African country’s culture, learning to fly. An airplane. Though she’ll likely always have a destination in mind, Mary Ellen will, we know, always revel in the going and those exciting side-trips, all along the way.

Jake has pulled off that magic trick of being both a leader and the consummate team player--and we speak not only about athletics. For Jake, look-you-in-the-eye leadership blooms organically out of his delight in working with others--and for others. His broad smile telegraphs an easy approachability and at-heart acceptance of others, and he inevitably draws adults, peers, and younger students into his circle of caring and light--an effortless, natural talent he has exercised around the globe, as well as in venues all over this campus. Jake is unassuming, genuinely interested in what others think and have to say; he isn’t in it for title, status, prestige, or personal gain but for community. He lifts up individuals so that the whole fleet rises. (Well, except for that “boat” he snuck aboard and filled with silverware.) Do not mistake us, though: this side of Jake is but one facet. Another is in his approach to his coursework and activities: energetic, full-spirited, whole-bodied and -minded, “a go-getter,” in the words of one admiring teacher, “an absolute standout,” in those of another. Prepared for each day’s class and ready for engagement, a student of “great enthusiasms,” Jake packs unstoppable energy along with a spark most often ignited by interaction, ideas in a classroom bouncing off walls and ceilings like a ricocheting tennis ball in a freshman boys’ common room--and another kind of fun. Adaptable, multi-talented, and supremely game, Jake’s a “No worries, coach!” and no regrets kind of athlete, switching in football from guard to fullback and outside linebacker, playing through significant pain on a team-first trajectory that earned him the ultimate respect of his teammates, coaches, and everyone cheering and watching this inspiration in green. Along with orange, it’s a color Jake wears with justifiable pride--and with a love he is unafraid to show.

Originality is Jesse’s middle name. (His other is Relentless.) Shifting voice and p.o.v. in the middle of a creative writing exercise to make a point, using his macro lens to reveal the intricacies of a flower’s stamen and the hummingbird’s tender approach, treating his Senior Exhibition as a 40-minute exercise in rhetorical ingenuity, information download, and talk-at-the-speed-of-light, except when delivering the dramatic, “Invest. Now.” These are but a few of the ways in which we have come to understand and appreciate Jesse’s uniqueness. As for the Relentless, that is the Jesse who gives no quarter, “wastes” no time. It means trading the comforts of dorm each weekend for the monastic asceticism of a library carrel, 18/7 with breaks for food and exercise. It means dashing into Open House for just one cookie--ok, maybe two, chocolate being a tiny weakness--and walking briskly (no lolly-gagging for Jesse), while reading your AP Biology review book, which would weigh you down if you hadn’t built up those muscles (brain, arm), as you certainly have, counterbalancing any EAC’s energy savings in after-hours elliptical marathons. “Off”-hours all being “on,” Jesse serves projects in town--the Humane Society, St. Joseph’s and Los Robles, making important connections. Jesse dreams big, but he puts the force of a massive work ethic behind his aspirations, knowing that only doing so will, in fact, win him a starring role on the tennis court or, as varsity stopper, fame as a Bandit. Magnificent in the classroom and efficient, at ease in collaboration and independent work, Jesse puts a capital P in “Preparation.” He is, simply, matchless in his dedication to the pursuit of excellence. It’s no fruitless chase; Jesse catches it, takes the briefest moment to appreciate his accomplishment, and then he’s off again, iridescent as the hummingbird, his heart beating as powerfully as the bird's wings are fast.

Two quick stories: When Jesse was seven, he became separated from his mom at a mall. Unafraid, resolute--we can see the younger Jesse sort of tilting his head weighing his options before deciding--he walked the four miles home through the streets of Santa Ana. Another time, another walk, this one documented in a shining personal essay penned this year: cutting through an alley with his younger brother trailing behind, then turning to see his fear, Jesse scooped him up and carried him the rest of the way home. Neither of these vignettes involves the now very speedy Jesse, in cross-country, track, or soccer, sport being Jesse’s passion and one of his absolute gifts. Nor do they touch on what a teacher called his “excellent mathematical ability,” nor on his perseverance, perceptiveness, and sustained growth in classrooms from French to psych to English. They don’t mention his relentless pursuit of mind-growth and academic excellence. But they do direct the spotlight to some salient qualities that are linked to these other parts of Jesse’s Thacher life. First and second, Jesse’s independence and his rightful, rock solid belief that he can--and will--make his own way, scoping out the path with a keen, discerning eye and moving with intensity and confidence, both physical and spiritual, through virtually any landscape. Third, his attunement to others, Jesse may, for the most part, look ahead with determined gaze, but, sensing a need behind him--a teammate, a sibling, a buddy--he stops his own forward motion to be the friend, the big brother. Principled, determined to do the right thing, Jesse has more than hit his stride in these buildings, in these hills and on this track: he has left us with an after-image of what will-power, strength of body, mind, and spirit, and trail-blazing courage look like.

Imagine artistic exploration as a vast sea upon which well-provisioned ships sail. Now envision Brandon running between helm and bow, directing the vessel towards some undiscovered island and shouting into the wind his unique, impassioned thrill to the journey. In the doldrums, Brandon tunes his ear to listen, hearing poetry in the stillness as much as in the caw of the frigatebird; in storms, the pitch and dive are just another language expanding the meaning of the voyage to its farthest possibility--an island where he could ride Newbury forever. For crew, he’d like you along, naturally--a floating Lit Society and jazz band, bound for. . . who knows? Brandon, unanchored by convention, has always given the music inside the freedom to play outside--in the trill and low mellow of flute, in vocal pieces solo and ensemble, by the note and improvised, small stage and large, in poetry and prose that wanders far afield, goes down dark rabbit-holes, and then yanks itself back to here and now, experience brought so close you’re cross-eyed in its proximity and power. There is the fathomless, expressive soul--and there is technique, setting a compass heading and steering by it faithfully, even when you might be lured by the dance of waves just over there. The reining in, the letting out--Brandon has grown to believe in the necessity of both, the marriage of tension and resolution in the creating and in the creation--and not just outside the traditional classroom. (Among other proficiencies, you have to know math to understand music at the esoteric, post-tonal, pitch-class-set theory level Brandon does.) Billy Holiday brave, Angel authentic, Webern gorgeous, funny, funky blue-note Big Mamma dancing BGreen: your “favorite sonority” may be the fully diminished 7^th chord--but your example has left our community augmented, “two suns in many heavens. . . scat freedom in creation.”

Standing center stage on the Pergola at Assembly last month, the sole senior spokesman for a young baseball team pitched a heartfelt plea: last home game of the season, against the Mesa Boys in Blue. It was a moment of open, honest emotion--the opposite of his steely-eyed fireballs that typically cross homeplate. No arm-twisting necessary, though: that afternoon the responsive crowd swarmed bleachers, filled the hillside, watched Kyle for his last time on the mound here at Bard Field. Opinionated, energetic, challenging, enthusiastic--the more vocal, out-there parts of Kyle have grown to be balanced with an earnest thoughtfulness that’s been there all along. In his classroom work, Kyle has applied consistency, diligence and what a faculty member called “a burgeoning intellectualism” to measurably tougher courses, taking pleasure and pride in seeing his potential blossoming into reality. Those who attended his Senior Exhibition witnessed just this, as Kyle effectively focused a packed Room 14 on the topic of gay rights as a civil rights issues parallel. There, we witnessed a case study in how student becomes teacher--the whole idea of the program brought to life. Or if you’ve seen his perfectly designed snackbar sign--The Tie Rail—and beautifully crafted jewelry case, fashioned with extraordinary care, not to mention fine motor skills. Kyle’s heart pumps stronger still for his three key sports. Using remarkable agility, exceptional eye-hand coordination and foot skills, and unmitigated competitiveness, Kyle keeps his football and soccer opponents off balance. He is the picture of poise on the home baseball diamond, here, where he is a steadying source of knowledge, know-how, and support for his younger teammates, or at Dodger Stadium, where he stood amidst Big Leaguers to accept the CIF Sportsmanship Award on Thacher’s behalf.

Wherever he is, Alec seems at home. In the Domelands Wilderness or Alaska’s Talkeetna Mountains, in a seminar circle discussing Faulkner, in a chair tipped back to soak up Pergola sunshine at lunch, carrying the ball down the gridiron, in a gym alive with “the sound of the ball against the creaky, hardwood floors” during 3-pointer work, catching someone’s essence in a photograph, purposefully puttering around in a garden or in a backcountry “kitchen” whipping up cinnamon rolls or calzones for the haul ahead--for Alec, each is its own take on meditation. Behind that apparent ease, though, a workhorse. There is, wrote an advisor, “no give-up, no roll-over in Alec.” As determined as an Ojai summer day is long, Alec doesn’t let obstacles of any kind--academic, athletic, landscape--get between himself and the outcome he desires. His personal ethics include helping others, often directly (building the morning’s fire, taking the lion’s share of group gear) and sometimes indirectly, by exemplifying qualities others naturally wish to emulate--because who wouldn’t want to earn more playing time on court or field by deliberate drill-work, or write a scholarly, persuasive essay on the Cold War, or connect the dots between one natural system and another? Alec wins the respect of peers and littler ones not merely by shouldering a Mini-Cooper-sized EDT backpack, but by the invisible stuff that’s inside: the genuine concern for others, insight and a well-developed aesthetic sensibility, an eye for what needs organizing and executing. A friend wrote, “Grushkin is sage-like. Whenever you go to him with a problem, he always has something to offer--advice, a comment to think about. This simple nudge--always in the right direction--has never led me astray.” Alec may wander in his beyond-Thacher life--but it will be with true north lined up underneath sinew and muscle, clear at the bone.

Three years ago, rather than continuing straight on Reeves Road, Henry banked a left at the bottom of McAndrew, taking as direction to the next part of his educational road the arrow below “The Thacher School,” hand-painted on the white boulder there. If he has looked back, it’s only to smile at having earned that turn and at the distance from that moment to this one, measured not in miles or even years, but in personal, scholarly growth. “I have learned,” he wrote not long ago, “to value the process of reaching results rather than the results themselves.” If that’s not a direct line to Mr. Thacher’s notions of organic education, we don’t know what is. Henry has played out that process with concentration and sincerity, and the result is a potent and flourishing intelligence that lights up for virtually every discipline he engages with--and that ensures stellar academic achievement. Especially compelled by the study of ideas--economics, philosophy, history, politics, current events, and literature. While his thoughts have always been fluid and quick, Henry’s writing has developed stunningly into predictably mature, nuanced expression of all that is churning in that big brain of his. As for other organs--heart and (we trust his kind indulgence on the biological inaccuracy) soul--Henry uses them selflessly for team--broadly, the Thacher community and Ojai--he tutors local kids in math--and more pointedly, to tennis, soccer, and his favorite, football. (He spent a few growing-up years in Friday Night Lightsville.) Henry has been called “strong and fearless, unwavering in his positive attitude and perseverance”--even when benched by repeated injury. Undergirding all of this is grace, optimism and a belief in the possibility of all things. As for that McAndrew Road left? It was so, so right.

Standing posture-perfect at the podium when it came time to deliver her Senior Exhibition, Christina looked out on a Thacher Room packed with faces she knew well: classmates and some of their parents, friends and acquaintances from younger classes, faculty, family. Individually and collectively, they were a testament to Christina’s draw. It is a magnetism made of many parts: a sincere personal warmth, a quick and at times mischievous wit and well-honed sense of humor, a fine mind that relishes paths less trod, a curiosity about how seemingly disparate topics can be linked, an abiding courage to look with clear, unwavering eyes at what is difficult or challenging or disturbing or even ugly. Christina processes information well and thoroughly, and she is perpetually ready for serious discourse, in Room E or at the lunch table or in the wee hours of a Sespe night. “She is,” contends a faculty member, “one of the most articulate, fluid speakers in her class, her spoken prose graceful and powerful.” The maturity and considered, compassionate thoughtfulness Christina brings to the conversation reflects not only breadth and depth of interest, but an expressed acceptance of alternative perspectives--even as she can persuade, she is open to persuasion. In this way, Christina is a generous spirit, encompassing rather than limiting, including rather than excluding--whatever your age. Not surprising, then, her commitment to serving the homeless in at the Ojai Family Shelter, where, along with rice pilaf and green beans, she doled out warmth and kindness to those who came to count on her each Sunday. As for Christina’s talent, creativity, and organizational strength, they played a key role in the successful completion of El Archivero. What will stay with us about Christina? Her great personal strength, her bottom line optimism, her resilience, and a wry smile that says, “Yes. I can do this.”

So, Avery might ask, bouncing up here, how is everyone on this supercool day? Glad to see everyone looking so chipper! So. Does anyone have an announcement? Yes, we do. Avery has given her very best to this community, every step along the way, no stinting, no whining, no Look at me! But we do look at her--to her--for guidance, support, organization, a we-can-do-what-we-might-think-we-can’t attitude. And, primarily, for a model of what commitment looks like when it walks on two legs that end in ankle socks and well-worn wingtips. She’s the gardener and the composter, gently or goofily humoring us towards taking less, using less, needing less. She’s the student, taking risks in complex territory, employing a razor-sharp mind, sustained effort, and innovative connective insight to positive effect, including in the inaugural SYA-Hanoi program. She’s the first-rate rider, the flat for exercising precise control in a cherished partnership, the fences for measuring the height of their flight. Avery is the capable juggler of more pins than there are sardines packed in a supersized can. She’s the open-minded listener and the decisive doer, considering the impact of her choices on students, faculty, staff, the community as a whole. No matter how hot the School Chair- seat has gotten this year, Avery, suited up in Toad-Couture or in fashion all her own, has stayed put, inviting others into meaningful conversation, or chatting with herself when others are too busy to drop in. Simply, powerfully, she has altered student government, flinging doors open and information out, welcoming a range of ideas, setting a sky-high standard for future years because she so loves and values this school. Humble, endlessly kind, she is comfortable standing on the foundation of her beliefs with knees that do not buckle. Avery, beyond “crazy fun,” your ride at Thacher has been, by any calculation, unsurpassably, superdooper awesome.

If Marco has you in his sights, best hightail it away from the lasso because one way or another, he’s gonna getcha. He’ll have you penning letters to oppose the death penalty in Illinois, buying yet more candy to raise money for needs in Darfur, saying No! to Ponzi schemes, busting a move at a dance you didn’t think you were going to attend. In footsies, shorts, or jeans, Marco has one big personality, passion and commitment to match it, and the riveted attention of classmates, younger kids, faculty--whoever is in the flood tide of his influence. Although “The Marco Hernandez Show” makes us laugh, Marco is involved in many critical slices of Life at Thach: Indoor Committee—“the energy and the glue”—Amnesty International, service to the elderly and the youth of Ojai, football. There, his contributions, offense and defense, were as dramatic as how he looked in shoulder pads or a Triton costume. Above those shoulders, a good mind growing even as we watch, an observant eye, and an eagerness for debate. All contribute to the well-considered opinions he brings through the classroom door. Marco saves some of his best for Blue: a command of horse language when talking to Maximus Egregious Leonidas, robust competitive energy, confidence in the saddle. In the race for first place, Marco values each member’s contribution and applauds every try, whatever the class or course. In the backcountry, pummeling rain or sunshine, Marco’s the strong, skilled caballero you’re relieved to have along. A friend offered this: “Marco is honest, loyal, and trustworthy; he has more integrity than almost anyone I know.” Another picked up the thread with “. . . kindest, most caring, even if it’s a sometimes hidden quality. Raw, loving, he values human connection so much. Thacher needs more kids like Marco.” We’ll have to settle for the four years we got, which went by single-stake fast. Carthago delenda est!

To the benefit of the many who watch, Jensen gives the actions and choices in his life free rein to do most of his talking. They bespeak a wide world-view enriched by unusual exposure--to Japanese, Cambodian, and other Pacific Rim cultures, to the needs of children orphaned by the Khmer Rouge or left homeless by the Vietnam War, and to the imperative of thoughtful investigation applied to sustainable environmental engineering around the globe. They tell of Jensen’s at-the-marrow understanding of what family means--blood kin, adopted, or created in a dorm or community such as ours--and what support of others looks and acts like, well beyond the easy hug. They underscore the value and impact of sheer, hard work on academic achievement--not when subjects come readily but when they feel like a long uphill slog. Mostly, though, those who have seen Jensen’s response to one physical blow after another bear witness to something called character. No griping or self-pity for Jensen, only a measured, diligent, responsible approach to rehabilitation, a one-crutch-in-front-of-the-other determination to be victor rather than victim, his reliably cheerful attitude laced with optimism and hope. Jensen’s enthusiasm for his teams has not flagged one whit; it just comes at them from the sidelines rather than the field, fealty and camaraderie all the same. Steady, upbeat and ethically upright, a source of fun and inspiration to his classmates and the lads of Los Padres, “Jensen is, says a peer, “the kind of guy that everyone wants to be friends with--extremely kind, unusually loyal, ready to help you out--and always looking to have a good time.” Jensen proves that the even-keeled boat--or Yellow Submarine--will get you from Point A to Point B, or back again. Character and destiny are connected, they say, and in Jensen, we expect to see the link, forged by adversity, glinting bright as a beacon in his life beyond Thacher.

Dan would probably be more comfortable with this hoopla if we allowed him to go back down the stairs, change into his trademark sleeveless shirt and baggy shorts, and go practice free-throws in the gym. He’ll get the text later, thanks anyway. Still, we’ll guard him here for a few minutes to clarify just what sort of scholar-athlete-human being Dan has been in this community for four, fully-lived years. Class work first: beyond setting the bar for himself high, beyond the countless hours on task, Dan is wicked smart, blessed with a seeking intellect that asks questions, dissects carefully, analyzes and synthesizes in original ways. His mind churns perpetually, fired up by every discipline on the academic spectrum and some beyond it--his Senior Exhibition, for example--“racing toward new understandings and possibilities,” as one admirer puts it. Planning, plotting, strategizing--these are necessary to academic achievement, but they see equal expression when Dan enters his sancto sanctorum. Dan loves no activity more than basketball. Period--but not end of story. Dan has invested years to improve his speed, his accuracy, his moves under the basket. Camps and summer leagues, practice, practice, and more practice--these have yielded not just three-time membership in the 10,000 Shot Club (rechristened now in his honor) but agility and versatility as a member of the squad and a prolific scorer, too. Off-season or off-days contain pick-up games, tournament, and informal clinics--”Dan Camps”--in which he offers tips from his vast store to aspiring players, even little ones named Rob. In his less physical moments, Dan is introspective, always on the lookout for ways to improve himself and ways to help others--camp cooking in the wilderness, assisting Mr. Mazz in dozens of thankless tasks. And so, with great affection and no small sadness, we turn the lights off in Hu’s House of Hoops, switch by switch by switch.

Multi-variable? Only in calculus. Rather, blessed with an unvaryingly sunny disposition, Andrew moves through his productive, purposeful Thacher life with a smile at once quick, sincere, and inviting. Andrew’s natural geniality opens doors to many friendships. Tri-lingual and multicultural by virtue of his family’s several global moves, Andrew took little time four years back to establish a new home for himself at the far east end of the Ojai Valley--and to establish himself as an active and energetic learner whose métier was unequivocally mathematics, with a close second in the sciences. Thorough, meticulous, exacting, Andrew has an enviable ease with numbers and formulas, as well as a mental agility that allows him to see real world applications for his classroom learning--and, admittedly, virtual world relevance, too. Yes, games have their rightful place, perhaps nowhere more enriching for Andrew than when he can create play-amid-the-work during the middle school math tutoring he has devoted himself to faithfully. Or when, in teaching clarinet to underprivileged, hearing impaired children on his home turf in Korea, he makes musical miracles profoundly moving for all concerned--the young musicians, their parents, Andrew himself. (Mozart would smile, we think.) Collaboration is key to Andrew’s happiness, as a senior member of the Math Team or as a varsity soccer player. A big investor in this favorite sport, Andrew pulls out all the stops to be the competitor and the contributor to the team effort that he wishes to be. His speed and athleticism, as well as his quickness and distinctive ability to see the field as a whole, raise the level of play for all. No wonder he’s got the inside line on how to create a successful World Cup team. Touch is one thing in soccer, another in the world of human relations. We think it fair to say that Andrew has both.

All Carson’s got to do is show up for people to feel better. Buoyant and explicitly happy, he elevates spirits with a heady brew of exuberance, wit, gusto, and inclusiveness. Carson has the hardware for fun--hacky-sacks, Frisbees (regulation, glow-in-the-dark), foursquare balls--and the imagination for it. Outdoors, Indoor, Cut-like-Carson’s got it covered, from inventive inception through clean-up duties, textile lectures to conga lines. Carson’s sixth-sense ability to connect with people goes far beyond games, though, as much as he’s cherished in that department. Quieter moments of counseling young ‘uns, lingering in conversation because a friend needs to spill, hanging out around a campfire or after practice--Carson’s there, ensuring lifetime membership in a sort of EQ Mensa. His is an emotional intelligence come by naturally but enlivened by conscious will, something learned at a mother’s knee. In classes, he unselfconsciously asks questions that bring everyone into the problem-solving and discourse (English or español); he has special sight for detail in any material before him. Consistency, analytical skill, terrific preparation--the tools Carson wields to build his academic house. His favorite class? Hard to say, since he throws himself into each one with equal verve and a highly energetic work ethic that can yield a scholarly Senior Exhibition on the 1954 coup in Guatemala with as much punch as an essay on a Cormac McCarthy novel. True, and more, of Carson as camper and sportsman. Rain-swept mountaintop, cross-country course, soccer pitch or lacrosse field: watch foot-to-the-floor intensity, tirelessness, mental and physical toughness. While he husbands his own steady improvement, his focus is always the group effort and effect. “Catalyst, organizer, comedian, entrepreneur, advocate, and sometime provocateur”--these parental observations of Carson’s talents ring with truth and are played out in Carson’s every action, every word. Carson understands at heart the problem with goodbyes--but he knows well the art of mitigation: Don’t be sad it’s over. Be glad it happened.

By birth and family circumstance, Mouna is a citizen of the world. She moves with grace and finely tuned awareness through various and distinct cultures: Tunisia and the U.S. are her heritage; Saudi Arabia her childhood home. The bridges, one to another, were formed inside her, a double helix beautiful and strong. Organized and calmly methodical, Mouna is also resourceful, and her dedication to all tasks has been evident in both the doing and the done for three years here: befriending an elderly resident of Los Robles, rolling semolina to make couscous for others, galvanizing efforts for the Invisible Children Foundation, inspiring other tennis players to their best matches by the example of hard work and playing through injury. Her teachers appreciate the thoroughness of her preparation and the accuracy of her class contributions, and admire the authentic pleasure she takes in learning. Mouna explores well beyond each class, where, her abundant curiosity piqued, she scampers off in search of more information or alternative perspectives. Her love of language is especially profound, the result of not just fluency in French but also comprehension of customs, views, historical influences, current issues--even fashion--in many other countries. Mouna’s creative temperament and very good eye are the push-and-pull informing her work in photography and studio art. There, she renders complexities of shape, form, and space in sophisticated ways that reflect not just her talent and skill, but her expansive knowledge of art and architecture through the ages. Walk through any building with her as your personal docent--contemporary, green, Islamic-influenced buildings being her specialties--and you will learn much--one of the pay-offs of Mouna’s unusual devotion to research and concentrated study both off- and on-site, during the school year and outside it. Mostly, Mouna sees buildings as places to bring diverse people together in intentional ways. We hope that, in this diploma, she will see a small blueprint for doing just that.

Like Pavlovian puppies, most of us start weeping when Scott just thinks about stepping up to the mic. “Very few things can make me cry,” writes one classmate, “but Scott’s singing I’ll Cover You is one of them.” His tenor as sweet as yaksik, the soulful Scott crooned his way into our hearts from the get-go, each piece an island in a what would become a vast a cappella-go of song, music that lifted us in one breath to heaven. It wasn’t only the voice. Scott is, as a faculty member once oxymoronically proposed, “ferociously kind, as generous and gentle an 18-year-old boy as you’ll find.” Advancing the theme, a peer queries, “Where in the world did they find enough lovable to create Scott ?” He has special sensors for discerning who needs what--a listening ear, an encouraging clap on the shoulder, help with homework, advice on handling stress, a Katy Perry tune on the ride back from the convalescent home where he’s got fans up the hall and down. You’ve got a friend in Lee, RENT paid or not. But don’t let the Lion King t-shirt fool you. Scott can also turn up the heat when necessary: a tricky Calculus problem in homework or in a mathematics contest, a thorny historical moment, a confoundingly difficult Shakespeare play, first-time shot-putting, “hills to climb and hard work to do,” a critical block in a football game or a soccer opponent who keeps getting through--Scott attends to such challenges with steadiness, concentration, tenacity, and belief that striving will have its reward, measured not always by scoreboards we can see. When all else falls away, there is Scott’s example of seeing things through. We wouldn’t be surprised if he did open up a restaurant in Santa Fe. So, name that tune: Teenage Dream? We Just Called to Say We Love You? Final answer: seven notes. Breaking up is hard to do.

To unfold a meaningful final year has been Bryanna’s work and play as a senior. Throughout her days as a younger student, though, she demonstrated to the community what she was made of: unwavering industriousness, spirited independence, fortitude, exactitude, preparation. As excited as she is by learning in many subject areas, Bryanna is no gadfly. Rather than just touching down here and there, she pursues knowledge with a relentlessness that takes her deeper, farther; hers is a mind with a gargantuan appetite. She loves nothing better than an intellectual puzzle in any subject area, and she is singularly suited to fitting pieces together, urgency and patience taking turns in the scholarly execution. Widely read, each book an equally favored child, Bryanna brings verbal gifts to both the seminar circle and the pages she pens, Sharpies or keyboard at the ready: research, analysis, fiction fresh and revised, poetry, and op-ed essays for The Notes, which she has tended this year with a gardener’s constancy and a rare blend of sensitivity and boldness. Appropriately skeptical, unwilling to let the status remain quo, Bryanna’s also got spine: she boldly speaks up or writes up for what she perceives as right and just, and she looks out for others who cannot do so themselves: the special needs toddlers and infants at A Place to Grow, for example. Bryanna is fearless, more than capable and good company, too, on the soccer pitch and amid the black-garbed denizens of the backstage and technical theater world. There, Bryanna is as responsible as she is agile--and physically strong, energizing verbs elemental to any show: designing, creating, painting, and moving props and stage sets with a clear sense of how what goes where and when. Indefatigable is a big word for a petite poet-scientist-stage-techie, but it works for this one.

We’ll state the obvious: Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound! Yet the inevitability subtracts nothing from its truth. Before and above all else, beyond even the lush harmonies of her piano compositions, Grace is voice. Its range is Joni Mitchell wide, its tone as clear as Minnesota winter air. Did someone just reach through your ribcage to tap at your heart? Or melt it? Or make you want to jump out of your seat and join the French Revolution? Or jump up to jam with her--as if. Perfect vocal chords are necessary but insufficient to what we hear when Grace sings, which she does constantly: the discipline and rigor of practice, of honing technique--to these, Grace is uncompromisingly accountable. And we know we’re in the presence of a gift--a paltry word, really, but unaffected and clear--like Grace. We fall in love with her characters, mourn their deaths, worry about their piroghi and jello salads, cry tears of disbelief when the curtain falls. Music is but part of Grace’s voice, though. She uses it to counsel and cheer in Casa and among classmates. On the soccer field, to rally those who esteem her as a leader. For Spectrum, to speak the necessity of truth and kindness, respect for all. On the gymkhana field, to sing The Star-Spangled Banner, to yeehaw for the Green Team, to laugh at having been conscripted to compete in the packing race. In classrooms all over campus, to articulate her well-founded opinions, her observations from careful reading, her research findings, or to write detailed analysis. To drag a buddy out for a morning hike when everything seemed to pile up junior year. And when the snow has blanketed tents and horses during a long Sespe night, to chirp, Snow White to her adoring dwarfs, “Come on, guys!” A friend locates the logical contraction in the name and provides our close: “Grace Lowe. . . glowes. She just does.”

You could argue that Colin was fated for this spot, this moment, this . . . height. After all, he experienced boarding school in utero, spent his first three years in dorms, cut his teeth on tent poles and kayak paddles. Like many freshmen, he might have initially confused Thacher with camp: all your best buddies are right here, and they like climbing, playing sports, flinging themselves off high dives, hiking, hanging out in the sunshine, tying knots for good and for naughty. But Thacher, it turned out, was even better, because this camp was coed, and there were classes! As much of an outdoorsman and athlete as he is, Colin is a student and a scholar. He goes after his own learning with a clear eye to mastery. Science and mathematics may yield most easily to him, but Colin’s broad-mindedness and wide interests draw him down other runs on the academic river: into history and English, psychology, and art history. He is a strong and capable paddler in these waters, too. That he can design and build his own boat--a cherry desk created over months--speaks of Colin’s engineering talent, as well as his can-do confidence. This is a boon to his teams, where his quick-study flexibility is of great practical use, and his ethic of try provides a powerful example. Yet Colin cares more about doing the right and the good than having people notice. This sense of the ethical, combined with a gentle acceptance of everyone and everything that comes his way, makes him a logical go-to guy for sound advice or guidance. Everyone is welcome to the warmth of his campfire. It has been to this community’s benefit that Colin is as unruffled as Upper Baker Pond on a windless August day, as inclusive as a stand of pine, and as strong as the nearby granite mountains.

A marvelous Maggie Miller moment: JV volleyball pregame against you-know-who, Maggie talking about “winning on all three scoreboards.” Huh? We know about the first two--one for points in the game, the other for spirit and sportsmanship--but a third? Maggie continues, conspirator-cheerleader: “We’re gonna play better, we’re gonna to cheer louder, and we’re gonna. . .look hotter!” This is one big, yummy joke from one uncommonly grounded, ethical, platinum-character young woman who is happy mucking out a horse stall in pjs, sloppy sweatshirt and rubber boots or, in hiking boots, traversing 60 miles of the Sierra. How Maggie acts in every area of her life springs from a mature sense of self and an understanding that much of personal evolution is a matter of awareness and initiative. Maggie soft-shoes all over our curriculum with savvy, flair, and success, using the whole academic stage with predictable results. Her 3-D model of a complicated calculus concept symbolizes all her academic work: she gets at it from all angles, unsatisfied until she’s clear on every aspect, asking questions that include everyone in the class on the answer-hunt. Replace “class” with “stage” (main, musical, coffeehouse, Assembly, Spring Sing), “barn,” “gymkhana field,” “English riding arena,” “dorm,” “court,” “creek,” or “trail” and you begin to understand Maggie’s far-reaching commitment to community. As with academics, Maggie is 110% invested in her activities, a first-class trouper—on time, prepared, effervescent--and dedicated to the communal good. “Maggie always has a smile, a positive comment, a wise word, good advice,” writes a friend.” Says another, “She’s a humble leader and role model, listening with an open mind and heart.” Passionate about the environment, animals, and the people around her--Maggie subscribes to a “No cuts” philosophy. She is artful and heartful, tender but tough when need be, funny and fun-loving, gifted and giving. Does that make a fourth scoreboard?

One of Jo’s classmates nailed the arresting paradox that Jo presents: “To me, Jo is part student-part friend-part role model. What’s incredible is how she manages to give 100% of herself to each part.” Another puts it differently, but circles the same theme: ”There's something uniquely special about Jo Min. Somehow, she's hit the balance of maintaining a ton of responsibility while retaining her completely joyful spirit. It's kind of amazing to go from discussing calculus to watching Jo interact with her stuffed animals over the course of 30 seconds because, based on a soundtrack, you'd never know they were the same person. But it's all 100% wonderful, crazy Jo Min.” Jo will probably laugh off the redundancies, as well as resist the compliments--and gently correct them on their math. But we’re here to agree that Jo seems to study, compete, research, mentor, give tours, write papers, play her flute, advise all ages, edit, photograph, and be a friend--all with an equanimity uncommon in this busyness called Life at Thacher. To pull it off, Jo engages organizational smarts and a total attentiveness--but behind these is her inborn desire to push the edges of her known world. We envision the brain Jo uses for this as a perfectly laid-out drawer of precision dentist’s tools, everything shiny, clean, ready for its highest purpose. As for the tirelessness, Jo is at least ostensibly indefatigable because she is genuinely energized by acquiring new languages (four, if you count horse, along with English, Korean, and Spanish), mastering each scientific principle as it comes down the pike, growing ever more articulate, refined, and persuasive in her expression. Serious student, fun-loving friend, conscientious and kind, demonstrably talented yet somehow, miraculously ego-free. Not hard at all to see ourselves in Dr. Min’s dental office a few years from now, actually enjoying the experience.

Kyle probably knows a formula for the sort of exponential blossoming he has undergone these four years. A good mind has become disciplined and finely tuned as Kyle has marched through the demands of increasingly more challenging courses. Although he is especially enthusiastic about history, he doesn’t play favorites when it comes to his work habits: in all his classes, from trig problems to Latin translations, he is dependably attentive, involved in the discourse, heedful of how mistakes can be opportunities for deeper understanding. Thoughtful and generous with those sitting in the circle, Kyle offers a perspective rooted in respect for the kind of education Thacher offers. Kyle’s quiet leadership reveals itself in the dormitory, where he is a wonderful listener and sound advice giver, and in the backcountry, where unanticipated situations can require flexibility, mental toughness and muscle, and supreme equanimity. Kyle packs all these when he camps--and as a result, can be trusted as nearly a colleague to carry on; he was, for one faculty member, “a personal mental Sherpa” whose companionship was key to her continuing on the trail. The bespectacled thinker, the guy who uncomplainingly tucks extra group food into his own pack so a schoolmate will have less to carry, the warm companion to the elderly in a local assisted living home, the boy who bakes brownies or banana bread in the common room kitchen just to share with other students and faculty is also the linebacker and noseguard who, braids spilling out of his helmet, will tackle the tar out of you if you’re on the opposing team or, on the lacrosse field, will take you out at the knees if you get too close to his home cage and the laxbro tending it. Walk softy, talk softly and carry a big stick? We think so. But there’s something else, as one of Kyle’s coaches explained: “a whole boatload of heart.” Hot sauce optional.

"There is an art, a knack to flying”--a favorite quotation and our Trevor theme. The child who practiced leaving the ground via a rife, startlingly extravagant imagination became 8th-grader Trevor, determined that Thacher would be his runway. (“I could feel it in my bones,” he wrote.“Sometimes things get in the way--but you have to be responsible for your dreams.”) From that moment, never a backward glance, starting with a launch-to-a-mattress freshman year. One faculty member speaks for all, saying, “Trevor is a positive presence on a daily basis. He has irons in every fire.” The branding list is long, touching every program of Thacher’s mission. Many involve Trevor in leadership roles: Literary Society, Tech Crew, varsity football, RENT, the Spring Sing he co-wrote, directed, and produced. Trevor is selfless, supportive, downright inspiring to others on teams of all shapes and varieties. Hard working? “Your mind would spin,” says one teacher, “to know all the things he’s done behind the scenes.” Know-how and knowledge are Trevor’s grail, and he pursues both with an unwavering avidity and a joyous soul. All subjects--he’s as talented in the humanities as in science, math, computers--are worthy of the chase and of his exuberant approach. As a writer, Trevor has always been courageous and compelling, at times wildly inventive, but his poetry and prose have absolutely taken off. So, too, his acting, as he has come to command the stage from on the boards, sans headset, in addition to from behind, below, or above it. A fellow Masquer claims, “There's no one else I could imagine working with, with his sense of humor and out-of-the-box creativity.” Trevor’s time at Thacher has been a high-flying paean to a Live it All-Love Every Exploit philosophy. The cape? Still on, a silver dollar stitched into an inside seam, shining token of a shining flight.

When Rae wheeled up in that 1965 mint-green Fairlane for her first day, we had a clue about what would step out of the Ford. Flawless transcripts had preceded her. Word on the road was she’d already breathed some rarified academic air as a top student. The buzz was true: soon, Rae had parked herself front and center in classes, plus doing everything the Thacher experience demands. A research project on Los Maya, a revision of a short story about a teenager’s momentary lapse of judgment, an nth-degree Envi-Sci lab preparation--mastery’s hers because she tends to details with the scholar’s laser-focus and long-range view. Rae has reveled in the company of intellectual peers who like school, gaining, too, the pleasure of putting as much heart as mind into her studies and out-of-class learning. The latter includes her professionally delivered Senior Exhibition on a topic that somehow slips our mind, as well as her many independent forays into a world where fabric and thread weave a bright, glorious web to catch Rae’s inventive design. This esoteric talent puts Rae squarely in the way of all theatrical wardrobe and costuming needs, where she takes up residence downstairs during production months. Rae also takes gamely to soccer and tennis, redesigning the uniforms in her head and enjoying the competition and esprit de corps there. Which brings us to Rae-as-boon-companion. “I can turn to Rae for the most random things,” says a friend. “Removing a Mosquito Hawk using paper cups provided two of the most entertaining hours of my life. I trust her to be there to help with anything.” Another friend’s indelible image: “Mid-laugh, head thrown back without an ounce of restraint or self-consciousness.” We’ll add the logical remainder: She’s pulling out the gate, the Fairlane’s trunk packed with memories she has stitched with deliberateness, humor, effort, and care--seams to hold for a lifetime.

Frock star? Noelani does seem always to be decked out in an occasion-appropriate costume--classes, sports, formal dinner, even camping: lime green shorts over green spandex for her date with the wilderness. Fashion forward, sartorially witty, charming. But the least of Noelani’s many proclivities-as-strengths. She can research the 1973 oil embargo exhaustively, organize it to Closet Solutions standards, submit a graduate level paper on it, then shift gears to a pointed discussion on how literature both creates and reflects truths. “Noelani is,” writes one teacher, “a catalyst, drawing others in, giving more always, far beyond expectation. I’m eternally grateful for her energy.” The spirit of intellectual inquiry moves around this scholar like mist over the Ko’olau Mountains. And the spirit of community moves in her, an enlivening of her family name which translates to “helper,” a role she assumes naturally, empathically, on campus and off. During Smart Start afternoons this fall, Noelani took as much pleasure in the three-peer team she was on as she did in reading to the kids, talking with them, and--no surprise--playing dress-up. Minus the costumes, the same heartfelt dedication to a special St. Joe’s friend. She is a mother hen to Middle Schoolers, soft clucks for comfort, slightly crisper tones for discipline as necessary, and useful advice: “Sit down, breathe, take your pride out of the equation, and suck it up.” For Noelani, “team” is just a smaller community within a larger one, and in support of her basketball and lacrosse mates, she packs steely-eyed determination and fearlessness in her green-and-orange duffel. Outside shots on court, low attack on field--the versatile Noelani keeps opponents on their toes and sometimes on their backsides, surprised by the left-handed whirlwind. One final spirit in Noelani--the kind that accepts everyone with respect and compassion. A spectrum of talents united in one “great, bright star”--Noelani’s middle names perfected.

“Laid-back drive”? The phrase a friend used to describe Hannah pegs this girl’s style: she may appear a tad insouciant, but don’t mistake personality for character. Few work harder at a broader range of activities than this fierce competitor. Her own high expectations fuel a demon work ethic, and the aimed-for outcome is pretty much assured, aptitude and appetite being one potent mix. Hannah’s abundant talents span the academic spectrum and include the photographic arts. The more complex the material, the more happily she wrestles, to become what one teacher called “the driving force behind clarifying especially difficult mathematical procedures.” Another wrote, “Hannah pulls off the trick of balancing the rigor of examination and content mastery with the fun of collaboration.” Research? Hannah reaches back, sideways, peers ahead to connect material meaningfully, and then writes an essay built of evidence, plumb, true, solid in its structure and suasion. Hannah understands the link between micro and macro on the athletic fields she dominates, too--especially lacrosse, where she feels (her words here) “blissful and truly engaged, part of a machine made of smooth and glassy passes, cleats clacking, the swoosh of the ball, moving and connecting on its path up the field, making it own song.” Poetry? In motion. A friend attests: “Hannah’s a person less of words and more of actions--incredibly loyal, completely non-judgmental. Though she’s one of the most competitive people I know, she leads well and sees the best in everybody. We love her for that.” “We” includes cross-country teammates inspired by her example, Hill girls who count on her wisdom in crisis or routine drama, faculty who’ve benefited from her unflagging commitment to excellence. We may gasp when it takes the form of forging raging streams on downed tree limbs or scampering up a crag for a better view--but we’ll go with it, and with her.

The answer to “How’re we gonna keep her down on the farm?”: We’re not, unless a composting project’s got her attention. Lili arrived an adventurer by disposition and nurture; in her duffel, a burning curiosity about ideas, cultures, human interaction, dozens of Hows? and Whys? cramming every pocket. Personal and linguistic skills, too, and a ranging, fertile intellect. Lili’s teachers and peers admire her impeccable preparation, incisive questions and observations, her sheer reach. Classrooms and labs cannot hold this quester, though, so off she runs to sources that are to her like original springs until, thirst at least momentarily slaked, she’s off again. But before that, she’ll become family to those who happily open doors and hearts to her special vision. “Lili has a rare ability,” contends a classmate, “to see the beauty in anything.” Too, “she is a loyal friend, a giver of well-considered advice.” Another picks up the thread: “Lili is entirely selfless. She’d drop absolutely everything to help if I were in need. She’s a fantastic listener and an even better talker, intellectual but never condescending.” You know this if you caught even a millisecond of her vibrant Senior Exhibition on China’s presence in Africa. Or if you witnessed her volunteering in a Tibetan orphanage, tutoring at a school in Gansu, speaking for the voiceless through Amnesty International. Explorer, listener, discourser, doer--add to the manifest “athlete.” Key leader on cross-country course, at midfield in soccer and lacrosse, Lili runs to best others and to align the physical with the mental and spiritual. She knows, with uncommon maturity, that such alignment is necessary to any productive “navigation”--a favorite word that wraps in all that she loves. Racing horseback through Ojai orchards or running dusty Los Padres trails, climbing amid snow-blanketed landscapes in native or adopted mountains, Lili turns back, rosy-cheeked and smiling, but only to wave her farewell.

Nancy Sinatra was partway right: these boots--any of several pairs vying for closet space--are made for walking, but only to break ‘em in. From there, it’s on to hiking the Ridge or High Sierra and WInd River passes, Raquel’s limits leaving our limits in the dust or the snowbank. Spit-polished to mirrors, boots are for signaling Newbury: a perfect jump, a beautifully paced trot. Or, the rubber kind--for puddle-splashing and manure kicking. Except for a class-day ensemble with a certain un no sé qué, boots are for doing--as with all that comprises Raquel’s purposeful experience. A friend: “She hasn’t wasted a single minute of her life. Somehow she does everything without compromising: she never lies, cheats, steps on other people to meet her own high standards. Her energy rubs off: from Twin Peaks in a sports period to unconventional EnviSci projects to triple-decker or animal-shaped cakes, it's all possible.” Raquel redefines that word, by her zest, her sense of proportion, a steel-trap mind, and an unblinking eye. The prize might be a critical interpretation of paleoclimatology data, a probing analysis of The Color of Water, a personal essay painstakingly revised to reflect more lucidly the emotional landscape she wishes to draw. Out at the barns and fields, the goal might be as simple as teaching greenhorns the finer points of efficient stall-mucking or as complex as mastering flying lead changes on a spunky colt. “Raquel has so much drive and determination,” begins a friend. “The plans that most people would forget about, she follows up on.” The lighthearted, empathetic Raquel emerges in hugs and legendary gatherings ending in food fights or tag. Since everything connects, we’re back to the beginning, Randy Hauser now: In my dirty 'ole hat. . .and a muddy pair of jeans./ No need to change a thing. Hey y'all: I'm going out with my boots on. Walk on!

“Stuff happens.” The shoulders shrug, the head tilts, the smile puts a period on the conversation. For Will, there are plenty more important things to focus on, short-run and long: keeping Orange in crushing spirit and cheering his Blue friend on to success, patching tents and fixing broken poles, reblocking RENT, fashioning camo-crutches for Spring Sing, flipping quesadillas at Open House like a Cook’s Illustrated model, polishing final projects and exams to perfection. If we used our word allotment merely to list what Will’s done these four galloping years, we’d have no room for the adjectives oft-used in conjunction with his name--each here a direct quotation from teacher reports, advisor letters, overheard comments, schoolmates: perceptive, mature, musical, self-deprecating, steadfast, witty, empathetic, talented, scrupulous, fun, confident, self-disciplined, creative, ethical, sincere, mindblowingly generous, positive, inspiring, wise, uncomplaining, courteous, friendly, responsible, thoughtful, just plain nice, modest, soulful, helpful, joyful. We land there decisively because it is the quality with which Will lights his days and nights, and ours, bright delight in all he does. And all he does he shares: characters that move and inform--Benny, Wickersham Bro, Roger. Expertise in blade handling. The results of a lab investigation. Essays proving the pen is at least as mighty as the sword. A well-tended, warming campfire. Tips for running the California Poles. A tenor heartbreakingly pure, trained to persuasiveness in jazz, gospel, madrigal, folk, Disney, and Broadway tunes, almost every day, here to Los Robles. A sensibility that encompasses the gentle-and-generous and the rough-and-ready. “Those who say chivalry is dead,” a classmate writes, “clearly have not met Will.” Another: “It's rare that someone so accomplished is always ready to help you out with a high-five and a grin.” For everything Will has given this community, his own words: “That’s very, very kind of you. Thank YOU very much.”

“Your students are amazing!” This from a teaching applicant after he’d enjoyed formal dinner conversing with this global girl. Cynthia is an ambassador for what we hold dear at Thacher: honest academic pursuit in the midst of community, concern for those around us whatever their age, origin, or affiliation, independent thinking, principled acting. Brave, optimistic, enthusiastic--Cynthia meets life, with all its challenges, head-on. Such “are the things that define us.” She rightly trusts her abilities, her resilience and drive. When a teacher observing Cynthia as a novice rider hell-bent-for-leather on Freckles called her “a real-go-getter,” he zeroed in on her most salient quality. It’s what has taken her to higher plains in her academic achievement in all subjects--and what informed both her initial, courageous coast-to-coast move from New Jersey to Thacher and, two years later, her decision to take a risk and pack for School Year Abroad in Zaragoza, Spain. Cynthia’s passion for that country’s literature, language, culture and art only grew more ardent in the embrace itself--and in classic Cynthia style, she didn’t let an opportunity slip through her strong fingers, honoring W.S. Merwin’s line, “From what we cannot hold, the stars are made.” In Cynthia lives an unselfconscious, curious, artistic soul. In Spain, she sniffed out ceramics and drawing classes locally; here, she has found expression in new media with startlingly original results. In a productive triumverate, talent marries Imagination marries technical skill; her renderings divulge an exquisite sensibility--something witnessed in her writing, too: “transcendent,” a teacher says, “a reflection of her pure, gentle heart.” Everyone in Cynthia’s company--here, abroad, faculty, wee Hoopers and Mahoneys, Special Olympians, tennis teammates, schoolmates, family--has benefited from her kind solicitation: “Before you can ask her how she is, she’s asked you how you are, and she really wants to know.” Grace is hers. Gratitude for the go-getter, all ours.

Small town boy makes good? Yes, he does, Holland to Ojai. The trade may have followed family tradition, but this Sligh has created an experience stamped “JACK’S” in big, bold, blue letters, outlined in orange and green. Jack’s run started in unbearable heat four years ago, but the boy who showed up for the Welcome to Thacher party is hard to find in the young man standing here today. Jack was always math-and-science smart and book-smart, a voracious reader with eclectic interests in computers, Spanish, music. What Jack has done with these and others he’s added to his repertoire needs documenting. He’s become an insightful student whose prose is fluid and clear, a master of concepts others may find frustratingly complex, but which Jack’s mind springs open like the back of your great-grandfather’s pocket watch. Jack also finds reward and delight in guitar and piano (his main instruments), drums and vocals, especially when loosed in improvisational, screamingly fanciful flights: coffeehouses, MusicFest, Independent Projects, Spring Sing. Fly, too, is his role on his beloved football team. Practice or game, Jack goes for broke, pushing himself to improve, earning more play in clutch moments and the respect of coaches and teammates. Padded and cleated becomes blue-jeaned and booted for Jack’s spring fling on the gymkhana field. Aboard Mufasa or Uncle Mer, in his trademark PTS sweatshirt and hat, Jack makes quick work of his own races--then turns to mentor younger students. His special talent may be in what enlivens every friendship, as a classmate’s testimony proves: “Jack’s random bursts of excitement and hilarity have made my senior year great. Nothing is more terrifying than Jack following you in the darkness, speaking low, indiscernible Spanish in a heated game of tag.” Or primal screams. Authenticity, wit, iron strength, self-assurance--and a knife in his pocket. No boundaries. Jack, you’re it.

Steffi has made the trip from the section where seniors sit in the Centennial Amphitheatre down to “the magic square” of cement center-stage more times than most. Lightfooted, quick, intent, she bounces down, spins to face the Assembly, and speaks with clarity and directness. Someone on another continent needs our help. Write the letter. Buy a donut. Give your change. STAND for principle. Make a difference because you can. Steffi takes the responsibility of certain randomness of birthplace--living in a first-world country and enjoying the privilege of a first-rate education--as clarion calls to right action. She is just as serious about and committed to her learning. “She is,” writes a faculty member who has experienced the hurricane that is Steffi, “a force to be reckoned with.” Says another, “I cannot praise her work more; it is excellent.” Steffi’s classes are better for her involvement, “epic discussions” arising from her love of learning, her willingness to venture into the uncomfortable or unknown, her eagerness to engage in authentic, meaningful discourse. She questions, she observes, she revises her thinking when--and only when--she sees why she ought to. No wonder that Steffi is a wonder in a debate. Clear eyes, tenacious spirit, broad interests, a storm-the-castle-and-take-it-over work ethic--Steffi once called her extracurricular self a “human rights-aware, Jewish rider-dancer-tennis player who dabbles in many other activities.” Physicality, energy, and stamina mark several of these, winning her the high regard of her teammates and her fellow Dance Ensemble members. With repeated generosity and hallmark dynamism, Steffi organizes celebrations and dinners each Passover and Hannukah; all are welcome. The Ojai Farmers’ Market has more business Sunday mornings because of Steffi’s persuasive powers. In short, Steffi gets it done--and we expect to see an ever-broadening of what “it” is in a future made bright by the light this Star-child brings to it.

Amid the world’s clanging sound bytes, heart-on-sleeve declarations, and endless self-promotion, Leeah is a quiet rebel. Public recognition? Not necessary to her self-concept. Yet, in this here and now, Leeah might as well kick up those heels--and toes--and stand in the spotlight she’s earned. Standing is, of course, not exactly in Leeah’s physical lexicon. She tends towards fairly constant motion--most evidently as a member of Dance Ensemble and in her independent pursuit of competitive Irish dance. A dedicated four-year theatre tech stalwart, Leeah dashes in black, headset an accessory must as a tiara for the Queen of Light. She is the keeper of much PAC wisdom and knowledge for younger techies--including how best to stand your ground against the hauntings. (She knows every good hiding cranny and nook.) As a Teamster, Leeah’s movement is methodical, purposeful, responsible, its result a pair of gleaming Percherons who bend to her command. If Leeah is still--contentedly soaking up sunshine on an EDT, tucked into a new Terry Pratchett, in class, or over her homework--her mind is doing entrechats and pliés, or hip-hopping to new ideas. She embodies “independent learner”--self-motivated and able to reach solutions solo. Yet around a discussion circle, Leeah becomes fully collaborative, offering astute observations that prompt others to respond, to which she replies, and. . . the upward spiral raises everyone to a higher level of understanding. To her language studies--Chinese and Spanish--she brings a what a teacher called “a facile mind that readily comprehends and incorporates new ideas.” And amid all the other unfolding, Leeah has become a persuasive, moving writer, clear in her intention and compelling in the execution of memoir or short story. We hope Leeah will send us installments during her adventures beyond Thacher. Now? The roar of a BMW Dualsport and the lilt of Irish laughter echoing through the Valley as she leaves.

If things don’t work out along the physician or veterinarian route, the eminently sensible Olivia’s got a back-up: professional flag-runner. It’s a ton of fun--going really fast on your horse, Old Glory snapping and flapping beside you--and it’s a relatively quick gig. Plus, she’d have the Yellow Pages all to herself. It’s also a compelling human interest story: Willow--a difficult mare she trained out of persnickitiness and into stunning partnership. There’s something about the inside of a horse--apart from the really cool stuff you can learn from one’s skeleton--that has always been good for this girl--and we don’t mean just the bank account that grew by one beautiful silver dollar when she scooped it out of the dirt. In a program whose elements give her passion free rein, Olivia has found her bliss. Key qualities--patience, inquisitiveness, risk-taking, common sense--come from a bottomless bucket. With every masterminded pack trip, every gymkhana practice, every cow and novice freshman wrangled, every long, long trail a’winding, her knowledge and know-how have increased, putting her naturally into leadership and earning her ranks of higher esteem and privilege. The horsewoman who rides bareback backwards, a thin rope guiding her mount, is also a first-order admissions assistant--and a capable student on whom her teachers count for her logic and precision as much for her energetic involvement in discussion. Olivia’s ability to persuade has grown like a filly on good feed and vitamins--by a point incisively articulated during a group’s close textual analysis or by of movingly wrought image, words on a page. A classmate: “Olivia has a strong sense of self. She will always be there for her friends, going out of her way to make them smile. Being in her life is an honor.” We second that, and can almost hear, coming from the barns, equine affirmation in soft, loving nickers and energetic neighs.

Gum-chomping, head cocked, eyes narrowed and then darting around to take in the crucial details, heat packed on her right hip—“Policewoman” is sauntering slowly around the crime scene. It’s Tawni, in Woody Allen’s Death. Being from New Jersey doesn’t hurt; when needed, the accent is as ready as the notepad, and twice as thick. Half a sentence, and she’s cracking the audience up. Stage right, a few months on, and she’s a RENT star multitasking like a Broadway pro, belting out her relational frustrations to a tango. Onward, and Tawni’s armed with clipboard and a sure vision of what Spring Sing will be. Tawni doesn’t require center stage to flex creative muscles: she finds happiness in ensemble work and in creating, directing. Therein lies why our community so treasures her: a completely committed team player, Tawni is everywhere—stages, choral risers, basketball and volleyball court, dormitory, classroom, retirement home, website. Mature and even-tempered, Tawni parks her ego at the door. All over the place, but supremely centered. She has, admires a friend, “a moral compass as straight as an arrow.” Tawni knows who she is, why she’s here, where she’s going, how she’ll get there. In her trunk: intellectual curiosity for all subjects, incisive analytical skill, a witty, willing, sardonic sense of humor, an orderly mind. And, as one Tawni-fan recently suggested, “There’s not a more responsible person alive--as a student and especially as a friend. ” (This does not preclude cake fights and stress-release shrieking around the PAC.) First to learn her lines or notes, first to rehearsal, first on the bus, Tawni daily fulfills the reality of what a classmate writes: “If there's one person in the world you can count on, it's Tawni.” Count us in on thanks for that and for the fond memories that’ll blaze until you next come west.

Only once during her time at Thacher has Katie acted out of character. In The Real Inspector Hound, she played the corpse. Two-and-a-half hours, not a giggle, not a movement from under that blanket. So not Katie. In actual life, Katie expands the meaning of “alive.” She is a dynamo, a positive magnetic field around the clock. A fellow camper and teacher: “Katie is one of the loveliest people I have ever met: If the 60's had been populated with people as selfless, thoughtful, and kind as she, there’d be fewer gated communities and a lot more communes.” “Amen!” to that from a peer: “Katie’s there for you in the good, the awful, and everything in between. Few can bring sunshine in any conditions, but this true California girl can.” Katie lights up and warms the room. As a student, she is lauded for her dedication, her readiness to learn: prolific notes, intriguing and gently insistent questions, astute observations. On task, always, but no drama. If Katie thinks OMG-I-am-so-overworked!, she keeps it to herself and moves on. To what else? Sports, where, scrappy and stick-to-stick-like-glue on the lacrosse field, she’s also boosted both scoreboards in soccer, basketball and tennis, and taken a fluid turn at dance. To many service programs--the Humane Society, TROT, the Ojai Family Shelter, Monica Ros Fiesta, the local vet clinic, and Rescue Dog Foundation. To work in the dormitory, where her openness and encouragement invite others into the conversation or the party, to be listened to by someone whose empathy is a fifth chamber in a strongly beating heart. Katie was once noted for her “character, goodness, courage, vision, and love for all God’s creation.” We count ourselves fortunate to have had a place in there, so vibrant with Katie, pure gold, spinning through it.

Ask Patrick a question about robotics to appreciate some of his most impressive and endearing qualities. First, he’s completely respectful of where you’re coming from (the planet called Ignorantus), understanding that not everyone has his big brain for science and math. Second, completely genuine in his desire to inform, he works overtime to find the most accessible explanation. He’s patient as you still don’t get it, unobtrusively pulling out his tabbed, organized notebook. Here! Would these exquisitely detailed sketches help? Finally, when you nod in some Robotics for Dummies sort of way, he smiles and says, “Don’t worry. My parents don’t always understand it, either.” From Legos to a light-up tissue box to a robot, attached to a 10-foot-rocket, that measures concentrations of carbon dioxide, monoxide, and ozone at 30,000 feet--Patrick lives for the dream-come-true, the fantastic becoming real with his cerebral gifts and tinkering proclivities. Limitlessly imaginative, Patrick builds with collaboration in mind: rockets without parachutes, the better to hear the exhilarating whizzzz of reentry, the smack of hitting terra firma. And clear acrylic, the better for seeing how the innards operate. Mesmerizing. True, too, as an efficient, effective classroom student: “Patrick’s particular combination of talent, focus, and determination,” claims one teacher, “is among the most impressive I’ve encountered. His enormous time commitment, attention to detail, and industrious drive to find a way to make something work are astounding!” On sports fields, rock crags, and mountain trails, Patrick is a “Here, let me take your pack” kind of guy--nothing nano about his physical strength, helpfulness, skill, or eye for safety. Time, relativity, video game design, bio-chemical engineering, PIC, Arduino programming, 3D modeling, Patrick is our wide-eyed, high-tech guy, trans-Sierra or trans-cosmos, Neil Armstrong, hard-wired with TurboCAD. Houston: No problem here. Let the countdown begin!

Dallas is a talented shape-shifter. He’s not the kind under the spell, but the spellbinder himself. Think about one of several possible transformations: the not-a-thread-out-of-place, buttoned-up, breeches-and-riding-jacketed Dallas, impressively composed as he makes his rounds aboard Robbie in the competitive English arena, cantering through Zones to Nationals. That Dallas becomes (snare drum roll, blast of electric guitar) the Bohemian Mark Cohen dancing deliciously down the table, riling everyone to full-throated, full-bodied singing, a collaborative declaration of independence. Multidimensional? No doubt about it. One friend captured this recently: “There are too many nouns that could be used to tell who Dallas is. Singer, actor, dancer, songwriter, friend. Then there are the adjectives—funny, happy, friendly. Dallas radiates energy and spirit. Thacher has been beyond lucky to have him.” As unpretentious as he is talented, Dallas knows that any star on your dressing room door is glued on with equal parts hard work and dogged practice over time--and, unfazed by what it takes to achieve excellence, he’s willing to invest these to earn the results he desires. In academic work, he’s organized, resourceful, attentive, and prepared. He overtly enjoys posing the questions as much as unearthing the answers, especially in discussion--a facilitator who wants everyone included in the conversation who wishes to be. He also wants everyone at whatever Indoor Committee activity is on the docket for the weekend, themed dances his personal faves. Clearly, as good a student as he is, Dallas is not too school for cool. Nor for happiness in the backcountry, where he is skilled at creating comfort and safety for all. To Dallas, then, one final toast: To days of inspiration, to loving tension, to silver-studded belts, to making more and more out of something already pretty wonderful when it arrived in you, special delivery from PA to CA, three years ago.

One of Marquis’ favorite quotations is powerfully simple and direct: Actions speak louder than words. Take some of Marquis’ actions, then, as stand-ins for character. There’s his designing and creating a cherry and cedar double-rocking bench--each smooth seat and perfect joint indication of patience, care, exactitude. There’s an essay on A Lesson Before Dying, proof of the depth of his thought and emotion, and the originality of his insight. There’s his tracing a finer point during class discussion, or his after-hours pursuit of greater clarity in a concept, evidence of his intentionality, follow-through, and a flowering belief in himself as a student. There’s his donning that #24 jersey and his scrapping it out on the basketball court in practice and games, confirmation of his long-haul dedication to sports, his resilience, his work ethic, his belief that “teamwork makes the dream work.” There’s his trademark tricky shoulder tap. There’s his calmly wading through the icy Kern River, ferrying others to where they could reach the ledge to leap into the pool below--Marquis selflessly delivering fellow campers and a faculty member to the chance at thrill and delight. In all of these actions, we intuit words that define Marquis: focus, care, steadfastness. And we see the increasingly wider expression of the “work hard” and the “be nice” with which Marquis arrived. He knew well how to sit up, listen, ask questions, to be attentive to those around him. What he has mastered in his time here, though, takes each of these habits to another level and adds an element critical to any long-term growth: pleasure in ownership. Marquis has discovered at Thacher a continuity with his pre-CdeP schooling: Knowledge is power--and worth, in its pursuit, every ounce of energy exerted on the climb, boulder by slippery boulder. The Tweety Bird tie stays; a gooooooooood young man leaves.

Looked at a certain way, Jina presents that classic black-and-white optical illusion which demands a visual choice: faces in profile or an elegant pedestal bowl? We’ll start with Jina the student--the vessel. Her mind can hold any concept, the bigger, the better, the more complex, the more compelling. Jina’s intelligence absorbs the humanities with as broad a grasp and wide a welcome as courses in the sciences and mathematics. She builds an effective and convincing argument in English and history with precision and patience equal to that demanded by (Hold on!) creating a transcription factor library of the stele of the arabidopsis root. And what of the whole face implied by the twinned profiles? In Jina, it smiles the exuberance she feels in the company of ideas and conundra and classmates who enjoy the hunt for solutions and synthesis, too. It also signals Jina’s essential kindness, which, articulated in arms that enfold and a touch that heals, makes her friend to many and many ages--epic munch-outs a plus. Jina is generous with her time and her counsel, and “she always,” writes a friend, “wants what’s best for others.” Those others may be Middle Schoolers, classmates, or teammates. As for those alongside whom she wields racquets and lacrosse sticks, Jina proves that persistence, attention to detail, hard work and hustle play well on court and field, just as they do in a classroom or research lab or at the keyboard, where talent also plays a role. She’s absolutely unflusterable, too, that profile serenely consistent—“a coach’s dream,” sighs one faculty admirer—noting a quality that also serves when a yearbook deadline is ticking down and only 72.8% of the pages are finished. Jina’s faith is firmly in the future; she thinks only of the “shall be.” Face? Bowl? We choose both, knowing that there’s nothing illusory about this steady-as-a-rock star.

Richy is an intellectual powerhouse whose wheels are greased by the oil of unflinching application and fired by the furnace of need-to-know. In mathematics and science especially, no fast track is too speedy: Richy is the engineer and the conductor rolled into one, barreling through scenery blurred by the speed of his comprehension. Yet during his years here, reliably curious, increasingly more confident in his explorations, he’s developed skills as a historian and student of literature, as well, his discerning insights challenging those in conversation with him to locate more nuanced interpretations. Thacher’s laboratories and classrooms are the primary sites of Richy’s elegant decryptions of all things numeric and formulaic, yet he expresses a gentle, enveloping love of touching the exterior world in real ways--and have it touch him. The cliff-jumper who lands safely and happily in the surf below because he’s definitely calculated all the probabilities is also the artist--a photographer, lighting his pieces with a sensitive eye, seeing both the what-is and the what-might-be. Richy is patient with process because he’s thoroughly inside what he does. This includes leading a soccer team and being a friend. One of Richy’s classmates went literary when getting at the essence of his stalwart pal: “All The Pretty Horses touches on the idea of having a friend's back no matter what. Richy believes in this ideal. I’ve turned to him any number of times, even with completely trivial problems, and he's stuck through and helped me with all of them. Richy is the friend I will turn to years from now.” When, next year, we turn into the Library and don’t see the affable Richy there in good, happy company, we’ll be glad knowing that he’s already helping some new schoolmate to board his train of positivity and helpfulness--even as we trust he will always keep his Thacher compadres close to his heart.